Not A Day Goes By
by Monica-Bing
Summary: Three years ago, a tragedy changed Chandler and Monica's life forever. Can they ever go back to the way things were? **FINALLY UPDATED - Chapter Five**
1. Chapter One

Not A Day Goes By 

_Well, here I go.  Multiple fics going at the same time… Bear with me!_

_A little explanation:  I decided to name one of the children Emily…simply because I really like that name and it actually goes (kinda) with Bing!  So, for the sake of my whims, just try to forget Ross ever married Emily and Rachel never had Emma.  Or if you want an Emma (I don't mind), name her something else, because we can't have cousins named Emma and Emily.  Well, we CAN, but I won't.  ;-)  Can you imagine what Judy would have to say about Monica naming a child "Emily" if Ross and Rachel already had "Emma"?  Hmmm…._

_Warning:  Melodrama will ensue.  Apparently, I'm a dramatic writer…but one day – ONE DAY! – I will write a comedy.  Well, a dramatic comedy at least.  _

_Disclaimer:  These characters are not mine, and I apologize to their creators for all the trauma I inflict on them.  _

It was the subconscious knowledge that he was alone in the bed that woke him from his restless sleep.  He didn't even have to reach for her to know that she wasn't there, and the thought was quickly replaced with the knowledge that he knew exactly where she was…and what had pulled her from the bed so early on a Thursday morning.  He opened his eyes and stared into the darkness that still shrouded the room, feeling his heart begin to thump painfully in his chest as the lump in his throat threatened to choke him.    

            Three years.

            He slipped out of their bed, and opened the door to their bedroom quietly, gazing at her across the living room.  He knew she would be there – standing alone on the balcony, staring out at the city…her robe tied tightly at the waist, and her arms wrapped around herself as if she could ward off the cold.

            But he knew she wasn't feeling the early-morning chill in the air.  She wouldn't feel anything today except her own heartache.  And maybe some of his.  

            He stepped out onto the balcony, watching her silently.  She didn't turn her head, but he knew she knew he was there.  His eyes followed her gaze over the city they knew so well, knowing exactly what she was thinking.  He thought it too, every moment of every day.  He was always looking…hoping…praying…even in his dreams.

            He walked up behind her and slipped his arms around her, holding her close and offering the only comfort he could.  He felt her relax – just slightly – as she leaned back against him, letting him be her strength as he always had been.  He kissed the curve of her neck and rested his chin on her shoulder, tightening his arms around her as she reached for his hands and intertwined her fingers with his.  Still, neither of them spoke.  They watched the dark sky slowly lighten behind the buildings, though they wouldn't be able to see the sun until it was high in the sky and New York was completely lit by its light.  Without warning, she turned in his arms and buried her face against his chest, her whole body shaking as she struggled not to cry.  He helplessly lifted one hand to stroke her hair, unable to hold in his own tears when she finally broke down.  

            Three years, his heart mourned.  Three years.  And the worst part was, he was finally beginning to lose hope…and he knew Monica was too.  Three years was a long time.  Too long.

            He continued to hold her long after her sobs ceased, both of them feeling the slight comfort that came from knowing that they were going through it together.  

            "Monica," he finally whispered, the first word spoken between them that morning.  But he needed to remind her that in spite of the day, it was getting late, and they couldn't stay out there ignoring the rest of the world much longer.  They had responsibilities.  Monica reluctantly lifted her head from his chest and nodded slowly before meeting his eyes, struggling to compose herself.  

            "I know.  Emily will be screaming soon."

            "I can get her…if you want to go back to bed for a while."

            Monica gave him a slight smile, appreciative of the offer but knowing she couldn't hide in their room all day.  

            "It's okay, Chandler.  If you'll get Emily, I'll wake Caleb up and start breakfast.  I'd rather stay busy with them than…"  

She didn't finish the sentence, but he already knew.  He nodded and leaned forward to kiss her forehead. 

            "It'll be okay, Mon.  We'll get through it together.  I promise."

            Monica nodded her head against his lips, closing her eyes as more tears threatened to fall.

            "I know."  The words remained unspoken, but they both knew what she was thinking.  _We don't have a choice._  

            "I love you," he whispered softly, not sure that the words could bring any solace but knowing it was the only thing he had to offer her.  

            "I know you do," Monica sighed, then hugged him even more tightly.  "I love you too.  So much."

            He held her close for one more minute, then they both braced themselves to enter the apartment and start another day with their two children.

            And as they did every day, they would both fight with the knowledge that there should have been three.

             Detective Jonathan Bradley stared blankly at the form on his desk, unable to force himself to concentrate.  He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his forehead, looking toward the door when he noticed that the noise level outside rose suddenly, and an excited vibe filled the air.  The next thing he heard was the voice of his best friend, and he grinned.  Greg Morgan seemed to cause a commotion everywhere he went.  He pushed the file in front of him aside - it could wait.  Greg would come bursting through the door any minute, and Jonathan was ready for any excitement he had to offer.

            The door swung open without even a perfunctory knock, and Greg strode in, looking even more excited than usual.

            "Jon, you're not going to believe this."

            "Nice to see you, Greg.  Why don't you have a seat?  Coffee?"

            Greg ignored his friend's sarcastic greeting and leaned against the wall, holding a file in one hand.  Jonathan recognized the look on his face and his curiosity peaked.  This was big news.

            "I got a call a few minutes ago from Jamie," Greg told him off-handedly, and Jonathan slumped noticeably in his chair.  Some news.

            "Is it unusual for you to talk to your fiancé?" he asked him, his tone terse in spite of his effort to sound natural.  Jamie was in Colorado – and Greg would be too in just a few months.  He was happy for his friend, but he didn't like to be reminded that Greg would soon be living thousands of miles away.  They'd been friends since kindergarten…

            "No, but this wasn't a personal call.  It was business.  She has a new client."

            Jonathan forced himself not to roll his eyes.  Every social worker gets new clients, on a daily basis.  Trust a man in love to think this was extraordinary news.

            "…Actually, two of them," Greg continued, moving over to take a seat in the chair in front of Jonathan.  "Their parents died in a boating accident or something.  So, Jamie's trying to get them into a foster home and all - nothing usual.  But then she met the kids."

            Jonathan fought the urge to impatiently wave his hand at Greg and prompt him to finish.  Instead, he just shrugged, totally confused by the whole story.  Why was Greg bothering to tell him this?

            Greg paused dramatically, then flashed Jonathan another grin.  

"She recognized one of them."

            Jonathan squinted his eyes, thoroughly confused.  "Huh?"

            "And she just e-mailed me some pictures.  Take a look at this, Jonny-boy."

            Greg slapped the file he was holding onto the desk, and flipped it open.  Jonathan gave him a suspicious look, then let his eyes fall to the high-quality printouts in front of him.  His mouth dropped open, and he looked back at Greg in shock.  The child in the picture was older than he was in the pictures Jonathan had long ago memorized, but the face was one he would never be able to forget.  

            Connor Bing.

             It was a ritual now.  Every year on Connor's birthday, they pretended everything was normal – whatever that was – long enough to get Caleb up and off to school on time before spending the day in each other's arms, crying over their lost son.  They had never discussed it, but after the first year, they had avoided mentioning Connor in Caleb's presence, telling themselves that they were protecting their eight-year-old son from ghosts that might haunt him forever.  Neither of them realized that Caleb understood far more than they thought he did.

            This birthday was no exception.  After the early morning scene on the balcony, they had both swallowed away their tears and tried to make the morning routine for their children the same as any other morning.    But this year, after Caleb had been dropped off at school, they still had Emily, and their self-pity had to be pushed aside so that they could care for their daughter.  They both clung to her, feeling some comfort from their baby, but they both knew she couldn't replace the son they had lost.  And when Emily had been fed and put down for a nap, their thoughts immediately went back to Connor.  

            Somewhere, their son was turning five years old, and wherever he was he had no idea it was his birthday.  But quietly, mournfully, they celebrated for him.  

            And now, after three years, they'd celebrated more birthdays without him than they had shared with him. 

            Monica held Chandler's hand tightly as she sobbed, her face fixed in a sad, nostalgic smile as she studied a picture of two-year-old Connor that had been taken only two weeks before he was kidnapped.  

            "Do you think he looks as much like you now as Caleb does?" she asked Chandler softly, wiping tears off her cheeks with her free hand.

            "Probably not," Chandler answered, his voice just as soft and his eyes fixed on the picture.  "I always thought Connor looked more like you," he explained, swallowing hard as he recalled how many of Monica's traits – physical and behavioral – their son had inherited.  

            Monica closed her eyes, leaning against her husband as she tried to envision what the toddler she had known would look like now.  For a moment – just a fleeting second – she wondered if he was even still alive…but she pushed the thought away, refusing to even acknowledge it. 

            He had to be alive…somewhere.  She was his mother.  She would _know_ if he wasn't.

            Emily cried, and Monica reluctantly stood up, wiping the tears off her face as she headed for her daughter's room.  Emily stopped whimpering as soon as Monica picked her up, gazing up at her mother and grinning as she reached for Monica's hair.  Monica smiled back, kissing her six-month-old daughter's forehead as she untangled her fingers.

It was impossible to believe now, but she hadn't wanted this child.  When she first found out she was pregnant, Monica had felt every emotion under the sun – surprise, elation, hope, fear…but the strongest emotion had been guilt.  She had felt that having a baby was betraying Connor – replacing him, going on with life without him.  

            But the first time she felt Emily kick, she had surrendered herself to the tiny child inside her, and she had fallen in love.  Emily was theirs and that was all that mattered.  The only regret Monica had now was that Emily would never know her brother.  

            She heard the phone ring in the next room and then Chandler's voice as he answered.  She smiled and cooed at Emily as she fastened her new diaper and buttoned her pajamas back up, then realized she had heard nothing from the living room since Chandler answered the phone.  Curious, she lifted Emily into her arms and walked into the living room, softly asking Emily what she thought Daddy was doing.              

            Chandler stood in the middle of the room, his eyes wide and his face white.  The phone dangled from his hand, but it dropped to the floor as he turned to look at her.  Monica felt her heart jump into her throat as her thoughts flew first to Connor then immediately to Caleb and she stood frozen, her eyes begging Chandler to tell her what was going on.  

            "They…they found him," Chandler croaked, gasping for breath and gesturing helplessly at the phone.  Monica felt her heart stop, sure that it was bad news, but then a look of wonder spread across Chandler's face and he crossed the room to pull them both into his arms, twirling them around.  "They found Connor!"    

To Be Continued… 


	2. Chapter Two

Not A Day Goes By

Chapter Two

AN:  I'm sorry this took so long…I really am.  The past couple of weeks have been terrible.  That's the only excuse I can offer.  ;-)  And even now, it's short – but better than nothing, right?  

Oh, and the first part is supposed to be in italics, but who knows if it will actually show up in italics?  Anyway, should be obvious, but it's a flashback.  

One more thing:   To SFGirl and BluEyes, who both mentioned they were thinking of doing a similar fic – don't stop on my account!  You are both _fantastic_ writers, so I don't want you to cheat the world of your brilliance just because of me.  ;-)  

_"Chandler, will you get Connor's jacket and make sure his blanket's in the bag?  He won't sleep if he doesn't have it."_

_            Chandler obediently checked, though he had watched Monica fold the blanket and put it in Connor's backpack just minutes before.  He smiled to himself as he found the little jacket - and anticipating Monica's next request, placed Caleb's on the counter beside it.  He walked over to his wife and put his arms around her, kissing her cheek._

_            "Relax, Mon.  It's just one night.  Your parents are perfectly capable of watching the boys – and they love to visit them."_

_            Monica sighed and nodded reluctantly as she leaned against him.._

_            "I know.  I just want to make sure they have everything.  The last thing I need is for my mother to call at midnight, fussing because I forgot to put Connor's blanket in the bag and he refuses to go to sleep.  I don't want to give her any reason to criticize my abilities as a mother."_

_            Chandler grinned and kissed her fully on the lips.  _

_            "There's nothing for her to criticize," he reassured her as Caleb came running into the living room with a pillow, Connor following more slowly at an unsteady lope.  "Right boys?  Your mom's perfect, isn't she?"_

_            "Uh huh," Caleb agreed distractedly, more involved in checking his bag to be sure he had his favorite toys.  Connor, however, nodded enthusiastically, making Monica smile.  Her two-year-old son would think she was perfect no matter what she did. _

_            "See?" Chandler whispered in her ear.  "Bing men know perfection when we see it."_

_            "Then who am I to argue?" she whispered back, just as the knock sounded on the door.  Caleb ran to answer it, but was reminded by Chandler to ask who it was first.  When Jack and Judy's cheerful voices rang out on the other side of the door, Caleb glanced toward Chandler for his nod of approval before throwing the door open.  The now-familiar sounds of grandparents and grandchildren filled the room, while Monica and Chandler looked on in amusement.  _

_            "Are we ready to go?" Judy finally asked, looking at Monica for the answer.  Monica nodded with a smile, feeling the familiar lump in her throat.  She always hated the goodbyes – even when it was only for one night.  She took Connor from Jack, kissing him first on the cheek and then the forehead and having her kisses wetly returned.  _

_            "Have fun with Grandma and Grandpa, sweetie.  I love you."_

_            "Wuv you, Mommy," Connor returned, hugging her tightly.  Monica kissed him one more time, then knelt down to hug Caleb – relieved that her five-year-old was still allowing her to do so.  _

_            "I love you too, sweetie.  Have fun – and help watch after your brother.  We'll see you tomorrow, okay?"_

_            "Okay," Caleb answered, his voice suddenly quiet and scared.  Monica ruffled his hair reassuringly and kissed his forehead.    The past couple of times he had spent the night away from home, he'd been a little reluctant to go – but she knew he would be fine once they got back to Jack and Judy's.  _

_            She watched as Chandler said goodbye to their sons, then exchanged quick kisses with her parents.  A final wave to the boys, and they were gone.  Monica sniffed lightly, trying to cover her tears with a smile as Chandler hugged her.  _

_            "They'll be back tomorrow," he reminded her softly, his voice also sounding a little shaky.  _

_            "I know," Monica responded, pushing aside her motherly concern as she turned to her husband.  "You think it will always be this hard to let them go?"_

_            "Probably," Chandler answered with a grin.  "But as least we know that your parents won't let anything happen to them.  _

_            They both tried to ignore the shrill ringing of the telephone, silently cursing whoever would dare to call at this hour of the night.  Monica finally sighed and reached for the receiver, suddenly realizing that it might be the boys.  Anxiety was already creeping into her voice as she answered with an urgent "Hello?", now praying that it was just a wrong number…or Joey calling just to annoy them._

_            "Monica."_

_            The minute she heard her father's voice, Monica knew something terrible had happened.  She sat up straight, vaguely aware of Chandler sleepily pulling himself up behind her, his eyes questioning her._

_            "Dad, what's wrong?  Are the boys okay?  Where are you?"_

_            "Monica…I think you should come down to the hospital right away."_

_            "The **HOSPITAL**?" she repeated, her voice strained.  Chandler was wide awake now, his eyes suddenly wild with worry.  "What are you doing at the hospital?  What happened?"_

_            "Monica, sweetie, I want you to try to stay calm.  Your mother had to have an emergency appendectomy, and of course we had to bring the boys with us."_

_            "Oh."  Monica sighed in relief, willing her heart to stop pounding.  She shook her head at Chandler, letting him know that it wasn't the boys.  She took another deep breath, noticing that her hands were shaking.  "Well, is Mom okay?"_

_"She's fine, but – "_

_"We'll come and get the boys, Dad.  Where in the hospital are you?"_

            "Honey…I…Sweetie, try not to worry, but…we can't find Connor."  

AN:  I tried to find a situation that was as "unblameworthy" as possible, and this is it.  We'll just say some poor nurse got called into another emergency and lost track of the Bing children just a minute too long…seems that it would be easy to do.

            "C – Connor?  They…"  Monica could feel her knees turning to water, and struggled to keep from collapsing with Emily in her arms.  Chandler lunged for her just in time, taking the baby and guiding her to the couch.  She closed her eyes as she sank back against the cushions, her head swimming with the news.  The feeling was hauntingly familiar – the same shock, confusion, and desperation she had felt with her father's words years ago…only now her heart knew that on the other side of the abyss, there was hope.  

She opened her eyes to look at Chandler, seeking the answers to her questions in his eyes.  "They found him?"

            He just nodded, finding it hard to speak himself.  He held out his hand for her to take, squeezing hers when she did.  It was too much to take – the sudden righting of the world that had turned upside down years ago.  As his shock started to wear off slightly, he marveled drunkenly that it could be so easy.  Just a simple phone call, and they had their son back.  

            _No.  Not back._  The startling realization jerked him fully back to reality, as he began to vaguely remember the rest of the words he had heard over the phone.  

            "Colorado…" he whispered, as if trying to sort out the significance.  Monica looked at him, her eyes wide.  

            "He's…Connor's in Colorado?"

            Chandler nodded mutely, then took a deep breath.  "They're bringing him here.  The detective – that Bradley guy, the one that handled the case – he said they were bringing him here.  He said he was coming.  Some things to discuss…"

            Monica just nodded, but she didn't know what there could possibly be to discuss.  They had found Connor.  That was the only thing that mattered.  The moment she had been praying for for years had just happened.  They were getting their son back.  

            She had waited three years, but she had no idea how she was going to make it through the hours it would take to get Connor back to New York.  She couldn't wait to hold her son in her arms again.  Couldn't wait…

            She heard Chandler's startled cry and knew even as the world went black around her that the shock had been too much.  Her last thought before she lost consciousness was that she was glad Emily was safely in Chandler's lap…

            "Jon," Greg interrupted quietly.  "Jamie's on the phone.  She wants to talk to you."

            Jonathan nodded wearily and reached out to take the phone Greg held toward him.  The DNA test had matched – there was no doubt they had found Connor Bing.  It was a relief after all these years.  Connor had been his first case, and he'd never gotten over the fact that they hadn't found him.  And now – by sheer luck they had.   He couldn't help thinking that it could only get more difficult from here.

            "Hey Jame.  Everything okay on your end?"

            "As good as can be expected.  How do you explain to a five-year-old that he's not who he thinks he is?"

Jonathan sighed, feeling a sharp wave of sympathy for all the people involved.  This was not going to be easy.

"What did you tell him?"

"We agreed we would wait and handle it with the parents once we arrive in New York – maybe it will help everyone.  Right now, he just thinks he's going on a trip.  Have you told the Bings?"

            "I called as soon as the DNA tests were verified.  I wanted to get an update from you before I went over there."

            "Well, nothing new.  Assure them that I'm bringing their son to them as soon as possible.  But Jon…do you think I could talk to them before they see him?  I – I think it's in the child's best interest if I do."

            "Jamie, they'll be anxious to see Connor.  Would you want to sit down and talk with a social worker if you knew your missing son was waiting right outside the door?  I think we owe it to them to just get Connor home as quickly as possible."

            "That's the problem, Jon.  It's not his home.  He might be Connor to them, to you, even to me…but he…He can't remember _being Connor.  As far as he's concerned, his name is Dylan Buchanan, the only parents he can remember are dead…and the people that he's about to be reunited with are strangers."_

To Be Continued…


	3. Chapter Three

Not A Day Goes By 

_Chapter 3_

AN: I'm sorry this took so long.  Major writer's block.  But, it's done – good or bad – and now I can move on!!  =)  

_Monica ran into the emergency room of the hospital – Chandler on her heels - frantically searching for a familiar face.  A face that would tell her that they had found Connor and he was happily sitting beside Judy's bed drawing pictures as they spoke.  _

_            She felt Chandler leave her side, and saw him head toward the nurse's station to ask for information.  But before he could ask the question, a cry from behind them stopped them both in their tracks._

_            "Mommy!"_

_            For a split second, she hoped it was Connor, safe and sound and grinning about his adventure.  But she knew before she turned around, kneeling on the floor and holding out her arms for her son, that the voice calling her belonged to Caleb.  He hugged her fiercely, and she could feel the tenseness and fear in his young body.  Instinct took over – no matter how afraid she was for Connor, this child needed comfort too._

_            "Hi sweetie," she whispered into his hair, just as Chandler reached them and embraced them both.  Monica trembled slightly, very aware that she was missing one pair of familiar arms around her neck.  Her eyes met Chandler's over Caleb's head, then spotted her father standing worriedly in front of them._

_            "Dad, what - ?"_

_            Jack shook his head, and Monica felt her heart sink.  Chandler's arms tightened around them, and Monica knew without looking at him that he was experiencing the same feelings of panic and surrealism that she was.  She composed herself as well as she could, and stood up with Caleb in her arms.  She pulled back to look at her son, wondering what was going through his mind._

_            "You okay, Cae?"_

_            He just nodded, and the look on his face broke her heart.  She wondered if he fully comprehended what was going on, or if he was just picking up on the emotions of the adults around him.  It didn't matter – whatever he was thinking, he knew that Connor wasn't there._

_            She knew she probably shouldn't discuss it in front of Caleb, but she couldn't wait any longer.  She had to know what was happening.  Her son was **missing**.  It couldn't get much worse.  _

_            "What happened, Dad?  Where could he be?"_

_            Chandler put a hand on her back in silent support, and Monica realized suddenly that he hadn't said a word since they entered the hospital.  She wanted to reach out and squeeze his hand in some kind of assurance, but both arms were full with Caleb.  Instead, she leaned against him, hoping he would feel her love and support as strongly as she felt his. _

_            "They're searching the hospital now, honey.  Every floor.  I – I'm so sorry.  I thought they would be okay with the nurse.  She said there was a Day Care…and I didn't want them to see their grandmother…"_

_            "It's not your fault, Jack," Chandler said quickly, dismissing the statement.  "You were worried about Judy."_

_            Monica nodded her agreement.  Thoughts of blame had not even crossed her mind.  But Connor wasn't one to wander off.  And if Caleb had been with him…_

_            "Caleb, did the nurse take you and your brother to the Day Care?"_

_            Caleb shook his head against her neck, then pulled away just far enough to mumble, "She had a 'mergency."_

_            "Did you see your brother walk away, honey?  Did you see which way he went?"_

_            Caleb shook his head again, his eyes filling up with tears.  "I was trying to see Grandma."_

_            Monica closed her eyes and hugged Caleb tighter.  After a moment of silence, Jack spoke softly.  _

            "I called Ross.  He should be here in a few minutes.  The police will want to talk to you."

_            They both nodded, understanding that Ross would take Caleb home and put him to bed while they dealt with other things.  Monica was sure they would find Connor somewhere in the hospital, and they would be following Ross back to the apartment shortly.  Still, it would be better to remove Caleb from the scene.  He would see his brother in the morning._

_            "Mommy…"  _

_            "Yeah, Cae?"_

_            "Are you mad that I wasn't holding his hand?"_

_            Monica tried to smile reassuringly and rubbed Caleb's back._

_            "No sweetie, of course I'm not mad.  Neither is Daddy."  _

_            "No, I'm not," Chandler reiterated firmly, kissing Caleb's forehead and running his hand over the top of his head.  Who would ever expect a five-year-old to keep track of his little brother?  _

_            Caleb didn't look convinced.  But the conversation was cut short when a uniformed officer walked over to them, looking somber._

_            "Are you Mr. and Mrs. Bing?"_

_            "Yes," Chandler answered quickly, his face tensing up.  "Have you found Connor?"_

_            "No, we haven't.  We've searched the hospital, and he's not here."_

_            "Then where is he?" Chandler questioned sharply, prompting Monica to lay a calming hand on his arm.  The officer ignored Chandler's tone, frowning slightly before he answered._

_            "We're not sure."_

_            Chandler hesitated, glancing apprehensively at Caleb and pulling the officer away from Monica and Caleb before he asked the burning question._

_            "Do you think…somebody – took him?"_

_            Jonathan Bradley closed his eyes, finding it hard to look at the father standing in front of him, desperate to find his son.  When he opened them, he saw that Chandler already knew what his answer would be._

            "That's the possibility we're pursuing right now, Mr. Bing."

            "Jamie?"

            She turned around at the small voice calling her name, and knelt down to look the child in the eyes.  Dylan – er, Connor…well, he was still Dylan for the time-being – scrunched up his face, confusion evident.  

            "Yeah, Dylan?"

            "Where are we going again?"

            Jamie gave him a smile, hoping to put him at ease.  Dylan was nervous, confused, and apprehensive – and she didn't blame him for any of it.  His whole life was about to change.  In spite of the circumstances and the joy that was awaiting them at the other end of their journey, all she could feel was sorrow on Dylan's behalf.  She hoped Jonathan was preparing the Bings for reality.  This was not going to be a happy reunion on all sides. 

            "New York, sweetie.  There are some people there that are very anxious to see you."

            "Oh."  Dylan looked down at the floor, then back at Jamie, his eyes wide.  "I wish Eric was coming…"

            Jamie chose to ignore the statement.  They had told Dylan that his brother couldn't miss school to make the trip, but Dylan was still perplexed as to why he was making the trip and his brother was not.  Luckily, the attendants chose just that moment to make the boarding call.  She checked to make sure Dylan had his backpack on, then handed him his ticket so he could hand it to the attendant himself.  He did so with a big grin, then slowly followed Jamie down the corridor to the plane.

            "I've never been on a plane before," he told her solemnly, nervously playing with the straps of his backpack.  Jamie smiled down at him, noticing that he hesitated before stepping over the threshold and onto the plane.

            "I think you'll like it.  I brought you some gum to keep your ears from popping."

            "Will you hold my hand?" Dylan requested in a small voice.  If Jamie had known Chandler Bing, she would have marveled at how similar his expression was to the one Chandler had worn many times when he was insecure.  She just nodded and squeezed his hand, fighting the urge to lift him into her arms and try to protect him from all the uncertainty the small child was about to experience.  But from everything Greg and Jonathan had told her about the Bings, they were great parents who would do everything they could to soften the blows. 

            "Do you want the window seat so you can look outside?  Or would you rather sit on the other side of me?"

            Dylan considered the possibilities, glancing out the small window at the other planes parked around them.  He finally looked up at Jamie and nodded shyly.

            "The window," he pronounced bravely, with just the trace of a tremor in his voice.  Jamie felt a wave of motherly pride at his courage…but she just shook her head with a smile and helped him fasten his seat belt.  They'd be in New York in a few hours, but she would let Dylan enjoy the flight for a little while before she began the necessary – and delicate - task of preparing him for what lay ahead.  

            "Where is he?" was the first question out of Monica's mouth after she and Chandler had welcomed the two officers into their apartment.

            "En route to New York," Greg answered immediately, having expected the question.  "They should land in a couple of hours.  Jamie Caldwell – my fiancé, she found Connor – is flying with him.  They'll meet us at the station."

            "How is he?" Chandler asked more quietly, gesturing for the gentlemen to take seats.  

            "He's…fine," Jonathan answered slowly, his pause causing Monica and Chandler to exchange worried looks.  

            "What?  What's wrong?"

            "We, uh…we need to talk to you about some things.  Jamie wanted us to prepare you before you see Connor."

            "What?" Monica asked softly, unsure of what to expect from them.  Chandler reached over to take her hand, leaning forward as he waited for one of them to elaborate.

            "Well – let's just start from the beginning," Greg started, knowing he was going to be the storyteller since he had gotten most of the detail firsthand from Jamie.  "A few weeks ago, Jamie – she's a social worker – got word that two children had lost both of their…parents…in an accident.  She was already looking into counseling and foster homes when she met the children – and she thought one of them looked familiar."

            "Connor…" Chandler breathed.  Greg nodded, studying the floor for a second before he continued.

            "Yes.  She thought the boy looked like the pictures Jonathan and I had everywhere when Connor first disappeared.  Jamie still lived in New York back then, so she saw those pictures a hundred times a day.  Anyway, she e-mailed us some pictures of the boy – and there was no doubt in our minds it was Connor.  Jamie took him for a DNA test - and it matched the DNA we took from you, Mrs. Bing, right after Connor disappeared."

            Greg paused to let them absorb this, and Jonathan took a deep breath as he took over the narrative.

            "Connor was adopted by Alex and Lauren Buchanan two years ago – almost a year after he disappeared.  The adoption papers all look legal – except of course that Connor wasn't legally available for adoption.  The authorities have no reason to be the Buchanans were the ones who kidnapped Connor – but they were the ones that ended up with him.  They named him Dylan…"

            Jonathan stopped, studying the faces of the parents in front of him and wondering what they were thinking.  After a moment of silence, he continued, trying to be as gentle as possible and hoping they would understand.

            "When Connor arrives, he is going to be very confused and very scared.  The life he remembers is the life of Dylan Buchanan.  He doesn't remember living in New York, and he probably won't remember you.  I think you need to prepare yourselves for that."

            "We already have," Monica said softly, tears running down her cheeks.  "Connor was two years old when he was kidnapped.  We admitted to ourselves a long time ago that if we ever found him, he would have no idea who we were."

"Dylan, I need to talk to you about a few things before we get to New York."

            Dylan, who was studiously drawing a picture of something Jamie couldn't quite make out, turned his head and stared up at her solemnly.  

            "Okay," he said agreeably, his eyes conveying his complete trust in her.  Jamie smiled, and reached into her bag to retrieve the folder of Dylan-related items.

            "Well, remember how I told you that there are some people in New York that are very excited about seeing you?"

            Dylan nodded, not questioning the fact as older children might have.  Jamie took a deep breath and pulled a picture out of the folder.

            "I want to tell you about them.  Okay?"

            Dylan just nodded again, glancing curiously at the picture in her hand.

            "Well, a long time ago, before you went to live with your mom and dad and they adopted you, you lived with another family.  They love you very much, and they were very sad and missed you very much when you went to live with your mom and dad.  That's why we're going to New York to visit them.  They can't wait to see you again."

            Jamie held out the picture Greg had e-mailed her so that Dylan could look at it.  "This is a picture of you with this other family.  See?  That's you right there in the middle."

            Dylan looked a little perplexed.  When had he lived with anyone besides his parents?  He took the picture and stared at it, trying to sort it all out in his mind.  

            "Who is that?" he asked, pointing to Caleb.

            "His name is Caleb.  Those are his parents, Chandler and Monica.  They are who we're going to see."

            "And that's me?" Dylan asked quietly, looking at the grinning toddler in the picture.  

            "Yes.  Back then your name was Connor Bing.  That's what Chandler and Monica called you, so I don't want you to be confused if they call you Connor when we meet them."

            Dylan remained silent, still studying the picture.  "If they missed me so much, why didn't they come to visit me?"

            Jamie paused, wondering what she should tell him.  

            "They didn't come visit you because – well, they weren't sure where you were.  If they had known, they would have done everything they could to come and see you."

            Dylan silently handed the picture back to her, and turned his attention to the window.  

            "Do you have any questions, Dylan?"  
            He shook his head.  Jamie watched him for a minute, worried about his reaction.  She decided it would be best to leave him alone with his thoughts for now.  He'd just received a lot of information that would be difficult to absorb.  He knew what he needed to know for now.  She would wait for the Bings to help her tell him the rest.  

            Monica and Chandler were sitting alone in Jonathan's office at the police station, waiting for word that Connor had arrived.  They both looked up as Jonathan walked into the office, a small smile on his face.  

            "They're here," he announced, hoping to put them at ease.  They stood up quickly -  Monica battling her weak knees - and turned toward him.  Seeing their need for reassurance, Jonathan smiled again and put a hand on Chandler's shoulder.  

              "You'll be fine.  Jamie has told him a little bit about you, and he knows that you're the "good guys" – but he is a little nervous.  Just try to relax.  This is a happy occasion, remember?"

            They nodded and tried to smile.  Monica wondered if Chandler's stomach was churning as wildly as hers was.  He reached for her hand and she clung to it, looking up at him for reassurance.  He gave her a wide smile and leaned over to kiss her on the temple.

            "It's over, Monica.  He's back now.  Let's go live the dream we've been dreaming for three years."

            Monica smiled too, squeezing his hand as he led her out the door.  The paused outside the door to the room Connor was in, composing themselves one last time.  Jonathan smiled reassuringly, giving no indication that he could hear their thundering heartbeats, then reached down to turn the knob.

            To Be Continued…

I'm not trying to be mean – honest!  I just wanted to get this chapter finished and I didn't want to get into the reunion yet.  That'll take some thought…and sitting in a football stadium in the rain all day left me too tired and waterlogged to think.  But hey – we WON, so it was worth it!!  ;-)


	4. Chapter Four

Hi everyone!  Sorry this part is short, but I decided to go ahead and post it anyway.  One thing:  If the Connor/Dylan thing gets confusing, I'm sorry.  He's 'Connor' at all times except when someone is talking to him, and even then I did my best not to have someone refer directly to him by name.  Hope it's not too difficult.  

Monica could feel her husband trembling as Jonathan opened the door, and knew exactly what Chandler was feeling.  She was almost dreading the coming encounter, because she simply didn't know what to expect – what to say, what to do.  She could already feel her son's confusion and desperation, and he was still out of sight beyond the door they were now entering.  She had no idea what to do to make this easier for him.  

            She closed her eyes just before she stepped into the room, saying a silent prayer for strength and wisdom – and hoping her maternal instincts would kick in and tell her exactly what to say or do.  She felt a sudden pull on her hand as Chandler moved forward without her, and she automatically took the last step into the room, opening her eyes as she did.  Her gaze immediately fell on the child sitting in the middle of the small room, and she felt her knees go weak yet again.  

            There he was, right in front of them.  After all this time…  

            Connor's head was bowed, his eyes glued to the floor.  He looked so small and alone, in spite of the small group of people standing around him.  Monica's heart lurched, and she fought the urge to run to him immediately and gather him up in her arms.  It didn't take a genius to figure out that that would only scare him more.

            "Dylan," the woman standing closest to him said softly, the unfamiliar name reminding Chandler and Monica again that this was a delicate situation.  "This is Chandler and Monica Bing…the people I told you about."

            Connor nodded slightly, then slowly lifted his head to look at them.  Monica gasped and covered her mouth as she looked into his face.  The blue eyes were unmistakable.  This child was definitely a Bing.

            She stumbled forward, but stopped when she saw a flash of fear in Connor's eyes.  Instead of sweeping him up into her arms, she forced herself to kneel in front of him, unable to keep herself from reaching out a hand to touch his cheek.  Connor's eyes locked with hers as he bit his lip in uncertainty, and she could feel the tears starting to run down her cheeks as she gazed at her long-lost child.  She didn't even notice Chandler kneeling beside her until Connor's gaze shifted to his father.  Chandler stroked Connor's hair away from his forehead, then let his hand fall to the child's arm as he smiled at him gently.

            "Hey - Dylan."

            Monica was surprised to hear the strange name on Chandler's tongue, but when she saw the wave of relief that passed over her son's face she realized that Chandler had done the right thing.  Connor needed everything they could do to lend a sense of normalcy to this entire situation.

            "Hi," Connor replied in a small voice, giving Chandler the hint of a cautious smile.  He glanced back at Monica, his smile growing slightly in spite of the hesitance on his face.  Unable to resist any longer, Monica held out her arms, pulling him gently into her embrace.  When he didn't resist, she held him more tightly, kissing his cheeks and forehead as tears streamed down her face.  Chandler's arms immediately enveloped both of them, and Monica could feel his body shaking with quiet sobs.  She turned her head just enough to meet his eyes over Connor's head, and saw the same deep relief and unchecked emotion that she was feeling.  

            It was almost hard to believe it had been three years since she held in her son in her arms…but it was hard to ignore the fact that Connor was no longer the happy, affectionate two-year-old he had been the last time she saw him – when she kissed him goodbye and whispered "I love you", blind in her faith that he would be coming back in the morning.  

            She pressed another kiss against Connor's head, giving herself one more moment to hug him tightly, then released him slowly, smiling through tears as she gazed into his face.   Connor studied her face for a moment, and Monica thought her heart would burst when she saw his face break into the smile she had ached for – dreamed of – for so long.

            "Jamie said I used to live with you," Connor commented quietly after the emotional reunion had settled down, and silence overtook them as Monica and Chandler gazed adoringly at their son.    

            "Yes, sweetie," Monica answered him, her voice sad but loving.  "You did."

Connor pondered that, looking from Chandler to Monica and back again.  

"I don't remember," Connor told them solemnly, with the candor of a five-year-old.  "It must have been when I was little."

The grave expression on his son's face made Chandler smile, even as his admission of having no memories of them broke his heart.  He nodded, swallowing back tears as his own memories of the past flooded him. 

"Yes.  Yes, you were very little.  You've grown up so much since the last time we saw you."  

Connor accepted this with a nod, and turned his eyes to the floor as he scuffed the toe of one shoe against the tile.  After a long moment of silence, he spoke again – this time with a distinct quaver in his voice.

"Did you give me away?"  

Monica stifled a sudden sob in her throat and looked immediately at Chandler, who was staring at their son in shock.  He started to shake his head furiously, but Monica managed to find her voice and spoke first.

"No.  No, of course we didn't.  We never would have given you away.  We love you very, very much."

"Very much," Chandler echoed, choking on his own words.  Connor glanced up, his expression pained and puzzled.

"Then how come I don't live with you now?"

Monica and Chandler shared a look, silently conferring about what they should say.  Seeing their loss, Jamie – who was staying close by just in case – stepped forward.  

"Dylan, did your Mommy and Daddy ever tell you what it meant to be adopted?"  From her conversations with Eric and Dylan over the past few days, Jamie knew that they had.  The fact that Eric was a biological son and Dylan was adopted had always been handled matter-of-factly by both of them.

"Yes," Connor admitted hesitantly, his voice soft.  

"What did they tell you?"

"They…" Connor paused, his face scrunching up in an effort not to cry.  It was the memory of the parents he had known, Monica realized suddenly.  In her own happiness, she had forgotten about what Connor had been through so recently.  Without thinking, she silently reached out to rest a hand on Connor's arm, hoping he would feel how much she loved him.  

Connor blinked hard several times, bravely pushing away his tears, and stubbornly continued.  "They said I had another mommy and daddy somewhere, and that my other mommy was the one that carried me in her tummy.  But they gave me away so I could go live with Mama and Daddy, even though they loved me very much and were always thinking about me."  Connor finished his recitation and looked at Monica and Chandler, his gaze slightly accusatory.  "Was that you?"

"No – well, yes, but…we didn't – "                        

Chandler paused in his stammered response, shrugging helplessly and looking completely lost.  Connor was watching him carefully, Monica noticed, waiting for him to clarify.  The pain in both their eyes tore at her soul, and she acted instinctively, pulling Connor onto her lap and wrapping her arms around him as she turned him sideways so she could look at him.  

"Yes, honey," she told him, her voice soft.  "We are your parents.  You are our son, and we love you so much.  And we did think about you every day and we missed you so very much.  You have no idea how happy we are to have you back.  But we did not give you up, sweetheart.  We didn't want you to go away, but…but somebody took you away from us.  And we searched and searched, but…"  Monica's voice broke, her tears finally overcoming her.  Chandler leaned in, looking directly into his son's eyes, his voice gruff with emotion.

"But we couldn't find you, son.  We tried so hard, but we didn't know where you were.  We thought about you a million times every day and wished you would come home to us, but…we just couldn't find you."

Connor's eyes were wide, his expression a mixture of confusion, fear, and panic.  He stared hard at Chandler as he processed the information, then squirmed impatiently off of Monica's lap.

"Somebody stole me?"

Chandler nodded silently, reaching out to Connor, but it was Jamie Connor was looking to for confirmation.  When she nodded, Connor's expression turned to one of bewilderment.  

"Why?"

He addressed the question to Jamie, but Chandler broke in.

"We don't know, son.  We never knew.  But it doesn't matter.  We have you back now, and we're never going to let anyone take you away from us again."

Connor froze, his face blanching as understanding washed over him.  

"You mean…I'm – I have to _stay_ here with you?"

_To Be Continued…_


	5. Chapter Five

**AN:  Okay, I know it had been forever since I've updated this, and I apologize.  However, I'm still fighting a lack of inspiration, and I've been trying to figure out how to get this from here to there.  So this might be short and pointless, but…at least I wrote this much.  =)  More coming soon.  I promise.  **

**By the way, several people told me that this was a lot like the movie "Deep End of the Ocean".  I had actually never heard of the movie or the book, but after looking the movie up, I agree that it sounds a lot like what I had planned for this fic.  Then of course, I ran across the book in a Goodwill store and I bought it since it was only $1 and figured I would probably like it.  But I'm determined not to read it until I finish this up (which might be awhile), so no matter how many likenesses there are to the novel or the movie, they are completely unintentional.  And while I'm disclaiming, a reminder to you all:  I do not own the characters from "FRIENDS".**  

One more thing:  I decided to use this chapter to give the title of the story some meaning.  It's from the song "Not A Day Goes By" by Lonestar.  (Great, great song.)  While that song is, of course, about a romantic love, it just seemed to fit as I was writing the beginning of the story.  Therefore, the title.  I included some of the lyrics in this chapter.  Use your imagination to apply them to the situation.  Thanks!

Flashback… 

            _Monica smiled as she pulled the covers up over Caleb, who had been out like a light as soon as his head hit the pillow.  Joey and Phoebe had taken him to the park, where, according to Caleb's account of the events, they had had the best time of Caleb's short life.  By the time Joey had returned him, they had both been so tired they could barely make it through their spaghetti._

_            "I love you, sweetie," Monica whispered to her son, kneeling down beside his bed and running her fingers through his hair.  "Daddy and I talked about it today, and we're going to try harder.  It's not fair for you to miss out on growing up just because…"  She paused, unwilling to say the words out loud, even when Caleb was sleeping.  "I'm glad Joey realized how badly you needed some fun."_

_            Monica stood slowly, her gaze going automatically to the empty bed against the other wall.  It wasn't fair to make Caleb live with ghosts on a daily basis, but she just couldn't bring herself to suggest that they move Connor's things out of the bedroom he had shared with Caleb.  It had been a year – twelve long, agonizing months with no word on their missing child.  Twelve months of crying herself to sleep, and of putting on a mask each morning before she faced the world.  Twelve months of listening to Chandler promise that they would find him, even when she knew that Chandler no longer believed the words himself.  Twelve months of sympathetic looks, of well-meaning questions from near-strangers, asking how she was holding up._

_            She wanted to ask them how they thought she was feeling, when she had no idea where her baby was.  She wanted to scream out that she couldn't imagine anything that could possibly be worse in the whole entire world, and she wanted to tell them icily that they had no idea what she was going through.  Instead, she would sigh heavily and give them the "Fine" or "Okay" they expected, laughing ironically to herself when she realized that she was daily performing what Richard had once called the "I'm Okay Head Bob".  With the exception of her family and the friends that were close enough to BE family, no one cared enough to look past the superficial answers.  So she kept giving them, just so they could feel that they had satisfied their duty by asking._

_            Monica sat down on the edge of Connor's bed, reaching for the bear that rested against his pillow.  This time was hers alone, her time to close her eyes and remember.  Each time, his face came clearly into her mind, the blue eyes she had looked into and the baby-toothed smile she had received the last time she had seen him.  Tears choked her as she replayed his childish voice telling her that he loved her as she kissed his cheek.  She couldn't bear the thought of him out there – somewhere – all alone.  But that was what she – they – had to live with.  The uncertainty.  She was sure it would one day kill her._

            "Mama loves you, baby," she whispered into the darkness, just as she did every night after Caleb was asleep.  For far, far too many nights.  She squeezed the bear one last time, and silently left the bedroom.  

_Got a picture of you I carry in my heart  
Close my eyes to see it when the world gets dark  
Got a memory of you I carry in my soul  
I wrap it close around me when the nights get cold  
If you asked me how I'm doin' I'd say just fine  
But the truth is baby, if you could read my mind…  
  
Not a day goes by that I don't think of you  
After all this time you're still with me it's true  
Somehow you remain locked so deep inside  
Baby, baby, oh baby, not a day goes by_

End Flashback… 

"Hello?" Ross mumbled wearily into the phone, relieved for the excuse to take a break from his young nephew, whose sole goal for the afternoon seemed to be taking all of his nervous energy out on his uncle.  

"Ross, it's me."

His sister's solemn voice immediately jerked him to attention, and he sat up straight on the couch, every nerve in his body on edge.

"Mon…how'd it go?  Is he okay?"

"I'm…not really sure."  Monica sighed deeply, and Ross's heart sank.  "It was going fine until Connor realized that we were planning to keep him here in New York, and then…well, he wasn't too happy.  We got him settled down a little, but we – we can't bring him home tonight.  He's scared to death, and he won't leave his social worker, and Chandler and I – we can't leave him, Ross.  We just can't."

"No, no of course not," Ross assured her hurriedly, not wanting her to feel like she had to explain herself.  "Where are you?"

"We're staying at a hotel tonight," Monica told him, giving him the name and their room number.  "We got a suite so that Jamie – the social worker – can stay with us too, for Connor's sake.  Her fiancé is one of the detectives on the case." 

Ross nodded as he wrote the information down, then addressed the question he knew was coming next.  "We've got the kids, Mon, don't worry about that.  They're fine.  Emily's napping and Caleb is doing his best to zap every ounce of energy Rachel and I have."

"Thanks," Monica breathed with another deep sigh.  "We really apprec-"

"Monica, it's fine.  You and Chandler do what you have to do.  And um, give my nephew a kiss for me, okay?"

"I will," Monica agreed, and in spite of her wavering voice, Ross could picture her smiling on the other end.  "Can I talk to Caleb for a minute?"

"I'll go get him," Ross promised, and Monica heard his muffled call to Caleb telling him she was on the phone.  A second later, she heard running feet, then her son's voice was coming over the line.  

"Mama?" 

"Hey sweetie," she answered, trying to make her voice sound upbeat.  "Are you having fun with Uncle Ross and Aunt Rachel?"

"Is Connor with you?" Caleb asked, ignoring her question.  "Are you coming home?"

"Yeah, baby, Connor's with us.  But I don't think we're going to be able to bring him home tonight."

"Why not?"

"Well…Connor's had a rough day, sweetie," Monica responded, deciding to keep the explanation simple.  "And we thought it might be easier for him if we stayed in a hotel tonight instead of at home.  The lady that found him is going to stay with us, too, to help him feel safe."

"Does he remember?" Caleb asked after a long pause, his voice sounding small and lost.  Monica swallowed hard, trying to rid herself of the lump in her throat before she forced herself to answer him.  They had prepared Caleb for this scenario when they told him Connor had been found, and had been surprised by how easily he had accepted the fact.  However, Monica knew it was hard for him to imagine his beloved brother not remembering his family.

"No, Cae.  He doesn't remember."

"Oh."  Caleb paused again, and Monica knew he was trying to hide his disappointment.  "Well, don't worry about me and Emily," he told her bravely.  "We're taking good care of Uncle Ross and Aunt Rachel."

"I'm glad, baby," Monica said with a smile, glancing up as Chandler, Connor, and Jamie walked back into the room with bags of food from the Chinese restaurant next door.  Chandler saw the phone in her hand and gestured to her that he wanted to say hello.  Monica nodded, then turned her attention back to Caleb.  "Sweetie, Daddy wants to talk to you, too.  Tell Uncle Ross and Rachel thank you and give your sister a kiss for me, okay?"

"Okay."

            "I love you, Cae."

            "I love you too, Mama."

            "Okay, here's your dad."  Monica handed the phone to Chandler, and glanced over at Connor, who was gazing at her curiously.

            "Who was that?" he asked, watching her intently.

            "That was…Caleb," Monica answered after a slight hesitation, glancing at Jamie to see if she should elaborate.  Before she could go on, though, the name registered with Connor and he glanced up at Jamie in surprise.

            "The other boy in the picture?" he asked, causing Monica to look at Jamie in equal surprise.

            "Yeah, I think so," Jamie answered slowly, shrugging slightly at Monica before going to her bag to pull out the file with the picture she had shown Connor on the plane.  She passed it to Monica, who smiled briefly at the picture before placing the file on the table beside them.  

            "Is he your little boy?" Connor ventured, looking as if he wasn't quite sure he wanted to hear the answer.  

            "Yes," Monica whispered, entirely unsure as to how that news would affect him.  "He's our son."

            "So if he's your little boy, and I…I'm your…"  Connor trailed off before he could apply same words to himself.  He glanced at the floor, then back up at Monica.  "Then that means he's my brother, right?"

            Monica was aware of Chandler saying goodbye to Caleb, hanging up the phone, and walking over to them, but she kept her eyes focused on Connor.  She finally nodded slowly, moving forward to kneel in front of Connor.

            "Yeah, sweetie.  Caleb is your brother."

            Connor nodded solemnly, then turned away from her.

            "I used to have a brother," he informed them quietly, fiddling with a package of chopsticks lying on the table next to their food.  "His name is Eric."  He was silent for another moment as he studied the table, then he turned back around to face them, his eyes now lined with tears and his voice resigned.  "But I guess he's not my brother anymore."

            The three adults had no response.  Connor looked away from them, then turned his attention to the food, methodically filling his plate while Jamie and his parents watched him in silence.

            Monica sat by Connor's bed, content with just watching him sleep.  She knew she would never take this simple pleasure for granted ever again.  His head was tilted to one side, one arm around his stomach – rising and falling gently with each breath he took – while the other arm rested on the pillow above his head.  The trauma he had been through during the day – all the questions that they still couldn't answer for him – were forgotten, and he was at peace in the world of his dreams.  A world where he wasn't struggling somewhere between the lives of Connor Bing and Dylan Buchanan.  She drank in the tranquility on his face, smiling sadly as she traced the features that had changed so little over the past three years – features that were hers and Chandlers, the same nose and chin that she saw everyday in Caleb and Emily.

            "I missed you, baby boy," she whispered to him as she leaned over to kiss his forehead.  "More than I'll ever be able to tell you.  I wish…I wish I could believe that somewhere deep down, you missed me too."

            Connor stirred slightly in his sleep, sighing gently as he settled down again.  Monica stroked his hair away from his forehead, glancing up at Chandler as she felt his presence beside her.

            "What do we do?" she asked him plaintively, reaching for his hand as he sat down beside her and turned a reverent gaze in Connor's direction.  

            "I don't know," he answered with a sign, leaning over to press a kiss against the side of her head.  "I just don't know."

            "We can't send him back to Colorado, Chandler.  I won't let – "

            "Shhh…" Chandler hushed her, rubbing her back soothingly.  "We're not going to send him back.  He's our son.  He's staying with us."

            "What if he doesn't want to?" Monica asked with a slight sob, leaning her head against his shoulder.

            Chandler remained silent.  He had no answer for that question.  And he wasn't sure if he was ready yet to bring up the suggestion he had been contemplating all evening. 

            Maybe they shouldn't make their child be Connor.  Maybe they should let him be Dylan.  And maybe they should bring Eric to New York.

_Minutes turn to hours, and the hours to days  
Seems it's been forever that I've felt this way…_

_Not a day goes by that I don't think of you  
After all this time you're still with me it's true  
Somehow you remain locked so deep inside  
Baby, baby, oh baby, not a day goes by._


End file.
